


Return to the Stone

by femmehawke_maschawke



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, During Canon, Eventual Smut, Gay Sex, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mostly Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:54:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29527410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femmehawke_maschawke/pseuds/femmehawke_maschawke
Summary: Warden Varryn Aeducan runs into his secret former lover Gorim in Denerim and finds out that Gorim had not waited for him as he had hoped. The new person in his life, Zevran Arainai, is there to comfort him when no one else is.
Relationships: Aeducan/Gorim Saelac, Male Aeducan/Gorim Saelac, Zevran Arainai/Male Aeducan, Zevran Arainai/Male Warden, Zevran Arainai/Warden
Kudos: 3





	1. Holding Out Hope

**Author's Note:**

> I'm planning on this being a multi-chapter fic and may eventually add a prologue at the beginning that talks a bit more about Varryn's relationship with Gorim, but this will mostly be about him finding new love with Zevran.

He heard the call almost as soon as his boots hit the cobblestones of Denerim. "Dwarven crafts! Fine dwarven crafts straight from Orzammar!" This seemed to be a common phrase among cloudgazers, but Varryn Aeducan could not mistake that voice anywhere. He broke off at a sprint towards the voice, losing his companions among the crowded market. He searched desperately among the stalls for any sight of him. And then suddenly there he was, right in front of him, only a few feet away. He couldn't believe he had gone whole months without seeing or speaking to him after barely going an hour without him since he was just a boy. Aeducan closed the following feet between them. He felt almost serene, finally things could return to some level of normalcy. 

"Gorim. You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

“My lord. My lord Aeducan? Is that really you? I knew you survived! I never stopped believing it… and neither did your father.”

“Father?”

Gorim continued, “Before I left for the surface King Endrin sent for me. It was almost more than I could endure seeing himself as if he were long dead and rotten now merely an empty husk collapsing in on itself. He could not even rise from his bed and the room stank of decay.”

Varryn’s stomach churned as he thought of his father so close to death and the likelihood that his treacherous brother had already usurped the throne. 

“He asked me to give you the shield of Aeducan and this letter.”

Aedeucan looked up. There it was, the shield. He couldn’t believe that his father had sent Gorim with this. It was supposed to have gone to Trian, may the stone take him. He took it in his arms and stared into its visage and… felt almost nothing. 

“The shield… I had almost forgotten about it.” Varryn practically whispered to himself. “Did he say anything else?”

Gorim sadly shook his head, “He barely spoke at all. Every word seemed as if it had traveled the entire length of the deep roads. ‘Find my son, no other deserves this.’ That’s all he said. His eyes have haunted me since. I think if it’s possible to die of regret I think King Endrid did.”

The two of them stopped for a moment ot stare at the ground, where deep below the late King Endrin somewhere had returned to the stone. It was cold comfort. Gorim cleared his throat before speaking again.

“We shouldn’t dwell on the past. I can hardly tell you how good it is to see you alive.”

Varryn raised his head to look into Gorim’s eyes. They still had the same mischievous sparkle they always had, though something had changed. He seemed... calmer now, somehow.  
“And now you can take your place again as my second…” Varryn began. He wanted to say “and we can finally be together” but didn’t dare speak those words aloud. At least, not yet.

“I am far happier in my exile than I ever expected to be” Gorim continued. Varryn heard light footsteps behind him and Zevran, appeared before him.

“Ah. There you are Warden, we’ve been looking all over the market for you.”

Varryn shot daggers at Gorim, ignoring Zevran’s comment. “The Gorim I knew hated cloudgazers.”

Gorim’s affable nature dissolved. “The Gorim you knew was a fool. I’ve learned more from the surface dwarves than they have from me. I was injured during my travels here, my leg healed crooked I may never fight again.” He paused for a moment and looked away, back to the end of the market where all the shacks were. He let out a sigh before continuing and grabbed onto Varryn’s shoulder, looking him straight in the eye. “I have a new life now, I married into a surface family. My wife is lovely and her father is the best smith in Denerim. We’re… expecting our firstborn before the spring.”

Varryn balked and went to take a step back before realizing that Gorim’s hand was still on his arm. He stared down at it with disgust and batted it away. Bile rose into his throat and as he looked back up to Gorim’s face he could see the hurt on his face. But he didn’t care. Varryn gathered up all of the phlegm from the back of his throat and spit at Gorim’s feet. 

“How could you?” He growled.

“What?” Gorim balked.

“The sky has made you mad, you’ve become stone-blind!” He yelled. 

Gorim looked around as onlookers began to take interest in their conversation. “Lord Aeducan...”

“Don’t speak to me! Don’t look at me! While you may have lost your caste, I did not. You would do better to remember who your betters are.”

Varryn threw the shield at Gorim's feet before turning around and tearing off towards the end of the city, away from Gorim, away from the Denerim market, away from everything. 

\---------------------------

Varryn had been laying on the bedroll in his tent for paragon knows how long. The ground was cold, and he gave into the shivers that racked his spine. Outside the tent, he could hear the idle chatter of the others as they sat around the fire. He could see the dance of the light on the wall of his tent, but he dared not leave. Varryn flipped around to the other shoulder, so that he wouldn’t have to see even the light of others nearby. 

Many more hours passed and eventually the noise outside faded, until all that was left was the faint whine of his mabari. Varryn was not known for tears, most dwarves weren’t. His brothers had beaten such sentiments out of him long ago. But as he thought about Gorim, and how the life he had wanted to live with him had slipped so easily through his fingers, a single frigid tear rolled down his cheek. He had walked happily into the life of a warden, left behind his title and his family at the slim chance that Gorim and he could be together on the surface where caste and the expectations of nobility could not touch them. But now everything felt heavy on his shoulders and he was completely alone.

Varryn heard a rustling sound at the mouth of the tent but dared not move. If it was darkspawn, he would gladly have them take him. He owed nothing left to the world, and particularly not to Fereldan, a country that was not his own. 

After stepping lightly over his stout frame, Zevran crouched down beside the dwarf and peered into his eyes. 

“You have had enough time alone for the day, don’t you think?”

Varryn lay still and raised his eyes to look up at Zevran’s face. Even such a miniscule action felt tiresome, and he dropped his gaze back down to the floor of his tent, letting out a small shiver.

“Tell me, what exactly did you have with that dwarf?” Zevran asked.

Varryn growled, “He was my second, and now he’s a filthy cloudgazer.”

“Cloudgazer?”

“A dwarf who abandons his kin and caste to come up here and get sucked into the sky.” Varryn elaborated.

Zevran gave a small nod, “Ah. And so what exactly does that make you?”

“Me?” Varryn shot him an indignant look. 

“Yes, you. Are you not a dwarf who now finds himself staring up at the sky?”

Varryn groaned. “Sure, yes. I suppose it does. I guess that’s exactly what I am now. I abandoned caste and kin for absolutely nothing.”

Zevran lowered himself to the ground and lay beside the warden. “You know how I ended up here. Yet you’ve revealed very little about yourself. Now tell me, how did you find yourself where you are? I noticed he called you a lord. Were you royal?”

Varryn looked into Zevran’s eyes and nodded. “I am a descendant of the paragon Aeducan, who saved us from annihilation against the darkspawn during the first blight. I could have been king of Orzammar, but my blighted brother stabbed me in the back.” 

Varryn shut his eyes and took in a shuttering breath.

“But that’s not really what I care about. Sure, I wanted to be king. But I didn’t know if it was worth the price.”

“What price?” Zevran asked.

“I could not have been king and… been with the one that I love.” Varryn looked away. He had never said those words out loud to anyone but Gorim, never let on to anyone that he preferred the company of men. He had to wonder if his father would have still thought him worthy for the house shield if he had known. 

“Ah. So that dwarf was your lover?”

Varryn nodded and felt his face get hot. “As much as it could be said, yes.”

Zevran blinked, “I don’t understand. You could not have been with him in Orzammar?”

Varryn blanched. How was this elf so calm about what he had just admitted?

“What? No, of course not!”

“I apologize, you will have to explain this to me. I fear I am not an expert in dwarven noble relations. In fact, coming from Antiva I have very little awareness of the local politic.” Zevran chuckled to himself. 

Varryn paused and reappraised Zevran’s expression. This elf was not judging him, nor did he seem to be searching for information to use against him later. For all he knew maybe men such as himself were not so uncommon on the surface. Maybe shame was not warranted at all. As he looked over Zevran’s features he began to realize how handsome the elf was. His skin was lighter than his, closer to the colour of caramel and blonde hair flowed down to his shoulders. His nose was thin and striking and black tattoos in the shape of waves cascaded down the side of his face. 

“What?” 

Varryn realized he had been staring and hadn’t bother to answer the question. 

“It doesn’t matter any longer.” Varryn answered. Another shiver racked down his spine. With the fire now out, it had gotten even colder inside his tent and he was still unused to the rather unlavish life of a warden. 

“Let me help you.” Zevran whispered, and lifted the side of the bedroll to crawl in next to Varryn. He wrapped his arms around the dwarf and slowly rubbed his hands up and down his chilled arms. Varryn froze, as he could not remember the last time someone had touched him in such a way, before leaning into Zevran’s frame. He felt heat emanating from the elf and just as his body stilled his heart finally broke and tears streamed down his face. He shook violently as he sobbed, but Zevran continued to hold onto him tightly and rub his arms and back until sleep eventually took the dwarf.


	2. The Company of Others

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback to Varryn and Gorim in Orzammar when they meet Teli and Mardy. Afterwards, Varryn awakes in his tent to find Zevran no longer there.

Varryn had never much enjoyed the provings. Something about them had always felt needlessly cruel, as if the lower castes deserved any more brutality than they already endured. Varryn grumbled to himself as he and Gorim trod through the Diamond Quarter. While his father had insisted that he attend, Gorim loved the provings and spoke animatedly of the contenders he was looking forward to seeing. 

“You should have seen Ser Blackstone in training, Varryn. Bhelen has a bet placed down on Ivo, but I think that Blackstone has a far greater chance of succeeding, even in spite of his age.”

“I prefer Ser Blackstone myself,” a voice interrupted.

Varryn and Gorim turned to see two young women on the steps of a noble’s abode. 

“What have we here? Two handsome strapping noble lords. You both look so grand.” The other woman said, eying Varryn and Gorim up and down as if they were pieces of meat.

Varryn scowled at the women and turned to see Gorim’s face blushing. 

“Who’s your friend my lord? Another noble from the honoured house Aeducan?” the woman pried.

“Why do you want to know?” Varryn fired back.

Gorim shot Varryn a look, and cleared his throat. “I’m not from a noble house girls. I am Ser Gorim Saelac, of the Warrior Caste.”

The woman looked at Gorim pityingly, “Oh that’s too bad. You’re quite handsome.”

“Teli, we didn’t pay gold for these permits to take Warrior Caste.” The other woman scolded. 

“I guess you’re right. Sorry, ser.” Teli apologized. 

Varryn felt incensed on Gorim’s behalf, but didn’t quite understand what they were talking about.

“Why does it matter if you’re noble, Gorim?” he whispered to his companion. 

Gorim grabbed Varryn’s arm and pulled him to the side. 

“They’re noble hunters, my lord.” Gorim spoke softly, raising his eyebrows as if to impart some secret meaning. Varryn stared at him blankly. 

Gorim sighed, “Because a man takes his caste from his father, they hope to bear a noble lord’s son. If a noble-hunter succeeds, she is raised up to join the house as a concubine to care for her son.”

Varryn’s face fell, he knew exactly what Gorim was referring to. He supposed the term “noble hunter” hadn’t been spoken in his presence before because of his mother’s status. 

Gorim continued, “It brings new swords to a house, so many nobles look favourably on such women…”

Varryn put his hand up to stop him, “Yes, I… I know. Thank you Gorim.”

Gorim looked at Varryn, “It does not have to be an insult, my lord. You could… take advantage of this opportunity if you wished.”

Varryn was taken aback. “Of course I don’t want to do that! Would you?”

Gorim blushed again, “I might.”

Varryn felt a pang in his chest. He had thought, or maybe hoped rather, that Gorim had had similar inclinations to himself. 

“What is it my lord? You look troubled.” Gorim inquired. 

Varryn looked up at him. “Do you mind if we go somewhere else? Somewhere private. I am really not in the mood for the provings today.”

Gorim turned his head to look wistfully at the entrance to the proving grounds. Varryn knew he had been looking forward to the fight, and felt somewhat guilty about asking him to miss them, but he needed to have this conversation with Gorim. One he’d been meaning to have for a long time. 

Gorim turned back to him, “Of course my lord, why don’t we return to your residence. It should be quiet right now with everyone attending the provings.”

\---------------------------

Varryn awoke in his tent alone. He had half expected Zevran to still be there with him after the night before. He struggled to stand and reapply his armour before lifting the mouth of the tent to exit. It was still early. The sun was just beginning to rise over the hills, a sight he had yet to get used to. Night and day were different beasts in Orzammar. It was strange to be on the surface where time was at the whims of the environment. 

At the edge of the camp Zevran sat on a log shining his blades. He looked up to return Varryn’s stare and flashed him a mischievous smile before beckoning him over. As Varryn drew close, Zevran shifted to the side of the log, patting the spot beside him for Varryn to sit down. Varryn took his place on the log, being sure not to sit too close lest their legs brush. He looked up at Zevran expectantly. 

“Good morning Warden,” Zevran greeted. “Feeling better this morning, I hope.”

Varryn nodded solemnly. He was not sure how to approach the subject of the previous day. He cleared his throat.

“I apologize for before. I’m sure my problems seem petty compared to your own.” He admitted.

Zevran chuckled, “Nonsense. I have never known another life but my own, as I venture neither have you. At the end of the day we all bleed, we all die, we all love.”

Varryn nodded and looked away. He felt embarrassed by his own heartbreak. 

“You had said before that your love was forbidden. Is that for all dwarves or just those with a title, such as yourself?” Zevran prodded.

Varryn thought for a moment. Though he had spent his entire life, up until now, in Orzammar, he had seen little outside of the palace walls and barely ventured further than the Diamond Quarter. He had to wonder how much he had missed. Did the lower castes have the same pressures when it came to marriage? It was hard to say. 

“It’s hard for me to give you an accurate picture, unfortunately. As an heir to the throne, I would have had to marry a woman who could produce me an heir. While it was common for nobles to take on other lovers, they were typically there to produce heirs as well. That was how I was born. I suppose it might have been possible for me to take on a male lover, but never a husband.”

Zevran nodded, “I see. Do you not enjoy the company of women at all?”

Varryn shook his head, “I do not. Do you?”

Zevran’s laugh had an almost musical quality. “I have had lovers of all stripes, my friend. Men, women, and everything in between. As a crow, I could bed just about anything I could fancy.”

Varryn’s heart skipped a beat. He had never met someone who was so open about their affections for others, particularly not for those of his same sex. 

“That sounds wonderful,” Varryn admitted.

Zevran shook his head, a hint of sadness crossing his face. “Alas, it is not quite as freeing as it may sound. It is a cage, if a gilded one at that. While I did not have the same expectations placed upon me as you did, they were still there. I was always expendable. While I did make love, I did not have love, if that makes sense. I was never quite able to relax around anyone, regardless of how I felt about them.”

Varryn nodded. It seemed that no matter who you were, the troubles remained the same. 

“Is that why you left my tent in the night? You could have stayed if you wanted to.”

Zevran smiled and winked at the warden. “Maybe one day I will.”

Varryn sheepishly returned the smile and felt his face get hot, though he knew that his skin would, thankfully, not betray the blush. Perhaps venturing to the surface had not been a waste afterall.


	3. The Second

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback to when Varryn Aeducan meets Gorim Saelac for the first time, when they are both around 16. After the break, we continue where Chapter 2 left off, with Varryn and Gorim retreating to the palace to have a serious conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW stuff starts in this chapter

~Six Years Prior~

Varryn’s heels clicked against the stone floors as he walked through the long and winding halls of the palace. His father, King Endrin, had called for him. Something that had rarely happened before, but occurred frequently since the death of his mother six months ago. While the two of them had lived in their own residence adjacent to the palace, he had been moved into his own room in the palace proper after his mother passed. Varryn was a typical middle child, and often flew under his father’s radar among the chaos of his brothers’ constant in-fighting. Unlike Varryn, Bhelen and Trian were born to the former Queen, but despite their common parentage they had little in common and often found themselves at each other's throats. Compared to his brothers, Varryn was timid and had spent far more time at his mother’s side than he had in his brothers’ company. 

Varryn turned the corner at the end of the hallway to find his brother Bhelen leaning in the doorway to his room. 

“Hey nughumper,” Bhelen mocked.

“Leave me alone Bhelen, I’m late to meet father as it is.” Varryn attempted to turn away from him when Bhelen grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around. 

“Oh I see. You think your father’s pet now that your whore of a mother is dead.” Bhelen smirked. 

Varryn steeled himself, “Call her what you want, but we both know that your mother was nothing more than a marriage of convenience. If my mother had been born a noble she would have been   
Queen. She was who father really loved.”

Bhelen laughed, “You think love matters? Nobody in Orzammar gives a shit about love, just sex and power. You know what sex is, don’t you nughumper? Or have you been too busy staring at your own dick to figure it out.”

“I’m not an idiot Bhelen.” Varryn retorted.

“Oh yeah? Because from what I hear you won’t so much as look a girl in the eye, let alone get your dick wet.” Bhelen shot back. 

“Boys. That’s quite enough.”

Varryn turned around to see his father standing behind them. King Endrin placed his hand on Varryn’s shoulder.

“Come, we have kept our guest waiting.”

Varryn followed his father down the hall to the palace lobby, where a boy his age was standing in full armour, a sword strapped to his back. 

King Endrin gestured to the boy, “Varryn, this is Gorim Saelac of the warrior caste. From now on, he shall be your second. Gorim will attend your studies with you, and accompany you whenever you need to leave the palace. He will take the room in front of yours so you may call on him whenever you may need him. Now say hello.”

“Hello Gorim, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Hello my lord,” Gorim answered. 

“You don’t have to say that. You can just call me Varryn.”

At that King Endrin’s face grew stern, “No Varryn, it is time that you began to know your place here. With the exception of your future wife, all should address you by your title.”

Varryn nodded in embarrassment. Things had been simpler when his mother had been free to raise him. Now it felt as if a whole rucksack of expectations had been placed on his young shoulders. 

\---------------------------

The palace was quiet. All of the nobles had left to attend the provings and only the servants were left. Varryn knew that he could expect a tongue lashing from his father later, but there were so few opportunities to have a spare moment with Gorim without one of his brothers interrupting them to make a wisecrack about their closeness. Both Trian and Bhelen were in the throes of matchmaking, but thus far Varryn had managed to elude all of the potential suitors his father had introduced him to. He knew he couldn’t keep the act up for much longer, particularly as the king’s health began to falter. While the likelihood that Trian would take the crown was relatively high, Varryn would need to be ready to step in and take his place if anything were to happen. Considering the deadliness of Orzammar politics, this was not an unlikely eventuality. 

Varryn sat down on his bed while Gorim closed the door behind them.

“Why don’t you lock it? Who knows how long the palace will be empty and I don’t want either of my stupid brothers to come bother us.” Varryn instructed. 

Gorim nodded and locked the door. He took a moment to remove the sword from his back and joined Varryn on the edge of the bed.

“What was it that you wanted to talk about?” Gorim asked. 

A beleaguered sigh escaped Varryn’s lips. “Gorim, have you” he cleared his throat “have you ever thought about a man, you know, the way you would a woman?”

Surprise crossed Gorim’s face, and he looked away as he spoke. “I… would be lying if I said I hadn’t.”

Varryn’s stomach filled with butterflies as Gorim turned back to look at him. 

“Gorim, I don’t know if I can marry a woman.” Varryn admitted. 

Gorim paused before nodding, “I suspected as much, my lord.”

Varryn was shocked, “You knew?”

“I didn’t know for sure. But it is unusual for a noble to spurn so many eligible young women. Though I don’t know for how long you can avoid the inevitable. Do you have a plan?” Gorim asked. 

Varryn shook his head. He didn’t know of any man in Orzammar’s history who had avoided such a fate. 

“I don’t know what I can do. I am supposed to produce an heir and the idea of doing… that with a woman makes my stomach churn.” Varryn stared at his hands. 

“Well, have you ever done it with a man?” Gorim asked. 

Varryn felt his face get hot. “No. I’m afraid I haven’t done anything with anyone.”

Gorim chuckled. “I suppose I would know of all people if you had.”

Varryn allowed himself a smile, “Yes, I suppose you would.”

“Would you…” Gorim paused as a blush spread across his face. He placed a hand on Varryn’s, and Varryn lifted his head to look Gorim in the eyes. “Would you perhaps like to try? We are alone, after all.”

Varryn’s heart skipped a beat. He had not allowed anyone into his heart since Gorim had been assigned as his second six years ago. Many a night had passed where nothing had been in his head except for the fantasy of Gorim’s touch. Gorim leaned his head towards his, and Varryn closed the distance between them to meet his lips. Though thin, his lips were warm and soft to the touch. Varryn could hardly contain his excitement as they kissed, slowly and first before increasing in speed and voracity. He reached up to stroke Gorim’s beard, a small moan escaping his throat. Gorim’s tongue found its way inside Varryn’s and Varryn felt his member grow hard underneath his small clothes. 

“Lay down,” Gorim whispered. 

Varryn did as he was told, and stretched out on the bed. Gorim stood up and began to remove his armour piece by piece. Varryn was so used to seeing Gorim with armour on that he scarcely knew before what he looked like underneath. It was obvious that Gorim had trained from a young age, and Varryn admired the muscular curvature of his arms and chest. Gorim sat down on the bed beside him and reached for Varryn’s trousers, pulling them down to his ankles. Varryn’s breath hitched as his member strained against the cloth of his small clothes. 

Gorim gave a small chuckle. “You sure are excited aren’t you?”

Varryn smiled sheepishly. “I have been thinking of this for a long time.”

Gorim looked surprised. “You have? I should feel honoured, my lord.”

Varryn frowned, “Please Gorim, call me Varryn. Especially in here.”

Gorim smiled. “Of course. Don’t worry, you’ll be calling my name in a second.”

Gorim pulled Varryn’s small clothes off and leaned down slowly engulfing Varryn’s engorged member in his mouth. Varryn gasped and shifted onto his elbows so that he could watch as Gorim methodically ran his mouth up and down the length of his cock. It was almost too much to bear. Varryn reached out his hand to stroke Gorim’s hair and Gorim lifted his right hand and placed it over top of Varryn’s, holding it for a moment. Gorim continued to suck his cock, increasing his pace before moving hand underneath Varryn to circle his entrance. 

“Oh fuck, Gorim,” Varryn whined. 

Gorim smiled around Varryn’s cock and slowly teased open his hole with his finger. Varryn wished he had some oil in the room, but it was too late to venture to the kitchens to grab some. Gorim slowly circled his finger up Varryn’s entrance until he was fully sheathed inside. Varryn gasped inwards as Gorim slowly massaged his insides while dragging his tongue underneath his foreskin. Gorim shifted his tongue, dragging it over the tip of his cock before lapping at the head. Varryn fell back onto the bed, an orgasm shaking his body from head to toe. Gorim kept his mouth over the head of his cock, swallowing his release until it was over.

Varryn lay panting. “By the paragons,” he whispered.

Gorim wiped his mouth and crawled further up on the bed to lay on his side beside Varryn. “What did you think?”

Varryn turned to face him. “That was incredible.” He reached over to kiss Gorim and trailed his hand down Gorim’s chest toward his small clothes. Gorim’s cock began to twitch underneath the cloth when a loud banging on the door startled them both. 

“Hey nughumpers! You better get out here, father is about to kill you for skipping out on the provings.” Trian yelled from the other side of the door. The nob juggled as he attempted to open it from the other side. “Hey, why is this door locked?”

Gorim and Varryn leapt out of the bed and frantically dressed. As soon as they were fully clothed, Varryn ran towards the door and unlocked it, opening it to face Trian. Trian glared at them both, before turning to notice Gorim’s sword leaning against the wall. Recognition spread across his face. Gorim and Varryn looked at each other nervously. 

“Gorim, why don’t you go ahead. I need to speak to my brother for a moment.” Trian spoke softly. 

Gorim looked to Varryn, who nodded for him to leave. Varryn grabbed his sword and strapped it to his back before exiting the room. Trian closed the door behind him. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest.

“What do you mean?” Varryn asked nervously.

“You have been avoiding everyone father has introduced you to, but apparently you’re porking your second? Do you want to bring shame upon us?” Trian retorted. 

Varryn gulped, unsure how to respond. “I…”

Trian sighed, and massaged his temples. “You can't do this Varryn. You’re lucky it was me who found you two today, Bhelen would have been far less kind.”

Varryn nodded, “Thank you Trian.”

Trian shook his head, “Don’t thank me now. Listen, you can’t avoid this forever. The only reason you have got away with avoiding father’s machinations for this long is because he feels bad about your mom. You need to suck it up and let him find you a suitable wife. This needs to end now.”

Trian turned to leave, “Don’t be long. Father really does want to talk to you about today, he’s not happy. Also, you may want to fix your hair first, y’know, so it’s a little less obvious what just transpired here.”

Varryn nodded and Trian closed the door behind him. Varryn sat down on the bed and hung his head. There had to be some way to avoid his fate, some alternative he hadn’t considered yet. He suddenly regretted not paying more attention during his studies. Having Gorim with him everyday had proved to be a distraction, and he admittedly knew less about Orzammar’s political history than he probably should. Perhaps the Shaper might know something that could be done.


	4. Written in the Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varryn visits the Shaperate in hopes of finding a way out of an arranged marriage. Later, Varryn, Zevran, Shale, and Wynne face darkspawn while traveling.

After getting a serious tongue lashing from his father, Varryn left the palace to see the Shaper. Gorim followed closely behind him. 

"Are you okay?" he whispered, lest any busybody nobles overhear them.

Varryn nodded and continued marching ahead. 

"What did your brother say?" He asked.

"He… said I have to suck it up and get married." Varryn replied. The two continued walking.

Gorim nodded and gave Varryn a sympathetic look. "Maybe it won't be so bad?"

"How can you say that?" Varryn snapped. 

"I would marry someone for you if I could." Gorim joked. 

"That wouldn't exactly solve my problem, now would it?" Varryn replied, raised an eyebrow.

As they reached the Shaperate Varryn turned to Gorim. 

"Will you wait outside? I think I should have this conversation by myself." 

Gorim nodded. "Of course. I'll be here."

"Thank you," Varryn said and dashed up the stairs and into the Shaperate. 

Inside was eerily quiet. Varryn walked past rows of shelves where scholars studied the stone using the aid of ancient tomes. On his way towards the reference desk he passed a young Shaper Assistant who appeared to be cataloguing books. She looked up at him and smiled. Varryn gave her a nod before continuing on to the end of the building where Shaper Czibor stood tracing lyrium into the stone.

"Shaper, could I speak with you for a moment?" Varryn asked, looking around him to ensure they at least had relative privacy. 

The Shaper finished applying a stroke of lyrium before turning towards Varryn. 

"Of course my lord," the Shaper answered. "You have not been in these hallowed halls for quite some time. What ails you?"

"I was wondering, Shaper, if you knew of any past Kings who were not married?" Varryn asked. 

The Shaper nodded, "Certainly, there have been many sovereigns in Orzammar's history whose spouse died during their reign. Some of whom remarried, but not all."

"Were there any Kings or Queens that never married in the first place?" Varryn asked. 

"No, my lord." The Shaper went to speak before pausing. He narrowed his eyes and appraised Varryn for a moment. "Be careful what questions you ask me son. I serve at the pleasure of the King."

That was all he needed to hear. Varryn sighed. "I understand. Thank you Shaper." 

He turned to leave, shaking his head. He had hoped that there would be something in Orzammar's history, someone who had struck an alternative path. He was running out of options, and frankly, out of time. Just as Varryn was about to exit the building, the young Shaper Assistant tapped him on the shoulder. 

"Forgive me, my lord, but I couldn't help but overhear your transaction with the Shaper." She spoke softly "I believe I may be able to help you." The Shaper Assistant gestured down the hall and Varryn followed her to a private reading room. 

"Please forgive the Shaper, he means well but interprets our role... conservatively. I believe the role of the Shaperate is to provide all with the information they seek, as we know not how they intend to use it." 

"Thank you Shaper" Varryn said. 

"Oh please I'm just an apprentice." She waved him off. "You can call me Valta. Now tell me, what question do you seek to answer?"

"Can we keep this between us?" He asked. 

"Of course. You have my word." Valta promised.

"Then I'll be candid. I don't know if I can… stomach marriage. Has there ever been anyone in my position who has avoided such a proposition?" He could hear the desperation in his own voice and hoped that it didn't betray too much.

Valta nodded, and stroked her chin. "It's not impossible. Though as far as I can recall, it was always because of death, unfortunately."

Varryn was crestfallen. That was the last thing he had wanted to hear. 

"You know my lord, not everything that occurs is written in the memories." 

Varryn perked up, "What do you mean?" 

"There are certain actions that require one to be stricken from the record." She replied. 

"Like what?" 

She whispered, "Well, the casteless are not recorded at all and traitors are wholly erased from the Memories."

"So if someone went to the surface?" He asked. 

She nodded. "Yes, as an example. However, that would mean losing one's caste."

"So if someone were to do that they would never be able to come back. Or see their family again." 

Valta paused for a moment, before holding up her finger. "Well, yes, except for Grey Wardens." 

Varryn was confused. "Grey Wardens?"

"Yes, Grey Wardens retain their caste, even though they enter the surface." She chuckled. "I suppose otherwise no one would volunteer." 

Varryn lit up. He could be a Grey Warden, just like the first of his house, Paragon Aeducan. He would have to train a bit more to get his skills up to snuff, but he could do it. Dwarves fought darkspawn all the time. How hard could it be? 

"Thank you Shaper Valta. I have to go!" Varryn ran off. 

"I'm not a shaper yet!" She called after him.

"But you will be!" He yelled back.

\---------------------------

Though they were both dual-wielding rogues Varryn always brought Zevran along with him on their travels. It wasn't particularly well-advised from a tactical standpoint, but he didn't care. He would rather have Zevran watch his six than anyone else. 

"Does the Elf always stare at the Dwarf's backside." Shale asked. 

Varryn whipped around to look at Zevran who winked at him in return. He smiled sheepishly. How Zevran was so bold with his affections he never knew, but it was certainly a nice change of pace after Gorim. 

"It doesn't bother the Dwarf?" Shale asked. 

"No Shale, in fact I rather like it," Varryn retorted. 

"Hmm. I have noticed that the painted elf seeks the attention of the Grey Warden." Shale wondered aloud. 

"He certainly does." Zevran said, wiggling his eyebrows at Varryn. 

Shale snorted, "I watched many such couplings during the time I spent immobile in Honnleath. Or should I say I was forced to watch. You do know that this usually ends in reproduction? I have seen it many times, indeed."

Varryn avoided Shale's gaze. He knew that Zevran and he had not been particularly subtle in their flirting, but had not yet realized how obvious their sexual tension was to the others. 

Zevran chuckled, "I doubt that would be a problem in this particular instance...but who knows? The act of creation is grand fun."

As Zevran and Shale continued to banter, Varryn thought back to Gorim. The pain of his absence hurt less now. The attention from Zevran certainly helped, but it was more than that. Perhaps they hadn't been meant to be.

He turned to look at Zevran as he laughed in response to Shale's latest comment, "You think so, do you? Have it your way."

Varryn smiled and snuck a glance at Zevran's taught ass, barely covered by his armour. He couldn't help but wonder what he looked like underneath it all, how different an elf might look than an elf when there was nothing but skin between them.

Before he could follow that train of thought any further a sharp pain slammed into shoulder and began to spread through to his chest. He turned to see he had been hit by an arrow, blood streaming down his arm from the puncture wound. As soon as he looked up they were surrounded by darkspawn. Zevran jumped in front of Varryn and stabbed a hurlock repeatedly before he could touch the Warden. Varryn rose to his feet and snapped the end of the arrow off. He would have to have Wynne remove the arrowhead later. The force of the break sent shockwaves of pain down his arm.

Varryn launched into action. Gritting his teeth through the pain he pulled the daggers out from behind his back and lunged forward towards a group of genlock archers. In the period it took them to switch weapons he had time to slit each of their throats. He whipped around to check on his companions, cloaking himself to move across the battlefield. Wynne was being pursued by a hurlock, while Shale punched another halfway across the field to defend Zevran. Varryn ran towards Wynne, stabbing the hurlock in the back before uncloaking. It crumpled to the floor allowing Wynne a moment to heal.

She let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you Varryn, for a moment I thought that may have been the end for me."

"Don't mention it!" Varryn said, and just as he turned to run off again another arrow hit him in the back of the knee. Blood rushed to his head and everything around him felt foggy. An ogre emerged from the clearing, stomping swiftly towards him shaking the ground underneath. Varryn struggled to stay up, the arrow in his knee pinning his leg to the ground. He grasped behind himself, yanking the arrow out and crying out at the pain. The ogre grasped him in his large meaty hand lifting him high above his hand. The ogre's fist connected with Varryn's head. Blackness encroached on his vision and he felt his consciousness slipping away, as if he was sinking underwater.


	5. A Dangerous Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varryn and Gorim abscond to Tapster's Tavern where they discuss potential solutions to avoid an arranged marriage. Later Varryn awakes after the battle against the darkspawn to find Zevran beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is extremely NSFW, so enjoy lol

Varryn skipped down the stairs of the Shaperate.

"I'm surprised to see you in good spirits." Gorim said, meeting him at the bottom of the steps. 

"Let's go to Tapster's. I think I have a plan, a good one." Varryn was practically beaming.

"Tapster's? I don't think that's a good idea Varryn. Your father wouldn't want us to leave the Diamond Quarter." Gorim fretted. 

"Please Gorim? It could be fun! Plus no one will know us there." Varryn begged. 

Gorim shook his head, "As you wish, though I doubt that will be true. You're more recognizable than you may think." 

The two young men walked through the Diamond Quarter towards the Orzammar Commons. Just as they reached Tapster's Tavern, a dwarf about fifteen years their senior with fiery red hair was thrown out onto the stone outside by the barmaid. 

"By the tits of my ancestors!" The dwarf yelled after hitting the stone. He crawled onto his hands and knees before vomiting beside tavern entrance. 

"I now see why my father never wanted me to come here." Varryn whispered to Gorim. 

Gorim shook his head, "That's just Oghren, of the warrior caste. He's been like this ever since his wife ran off with the rest of her house." 

"Who's his wife?" Varryn asked. 

"Branca, the paragon." Gorim answered. 

"What? She's married to that drunken sot?" 

"Unfortunately yes. Though from what I hear she prefers the company of women." Gorim whispered. 

Well, at least the two of them were not completely alone in their predilections, Varryn thought. He stepped over Oghren's body, who had promptly passed out on the front steps of the tavern. 

Once inside the tavern, Varryn settled into a booth at the back, hoping for some privacy. Though he had to admit, none of the warriors inside seemed particularly interested in him or Gorim. Most of them appeared to be nearly as sauced as Oghren had been. Gorim returned to the table with two flagons of ale, placing one down in front of Varryn. The metal was cool against Varryn’s hands as he took a long pull from the flagon, savouring its bitter taste. 

"Pray tell, what is this plan of yours?" Gorim asked. 

Varryn nodded, wiping the ale from his mouth with the back of his hand. “It's certainly not ideal, but we can avoid all of this mess if we go to the surface." 

"The surface?! Are you mad?" Gorim whispered through his teeth. 

"It can't be that bad can it? No worse than living a sham." Varryn retorted. 

"Not that bad? We'd fall into the sky! And worse than that, we'd lose our caste!" 

Varryn shook his head, "Not if we do it right. Grey Wardens retain their caste, even if they venture to the surface." 

Gorim looked at him skeptically, "My lord… Varryn, I don't think you understand what you're proposing. A Grey Warden's life is dangerous, you have never had to face darkspawn. One little scratch from them and your life could be over."

Varryn's face fell, "I’m afraid I don’t have much of a choice Gorim. Will you not come with me?"

Gorim sighed, "I… don't know. You know I'd do just about anything for you but this is awfully drastic. Have you not considered any other alternatives?" 

Gorim paused and shifted to look around the tavern for eavesdroppers before dropping his voice so low it was barely audible. "It is treasonous of me to suggest as much, but have you considered the kind of power you would have if you took the throne? Varryn, you could change the law yourself. You alone could ensure that no one need hide themselves." 

Varryn's eyes widened. It was an equally drastic prospect, though a compelling one. The throne had never held much appeal for him. As the eldest, Trina was the rightful heir and Varryn didn't have much of a political instinct or desire for the spotlight, and scrutiny, that came with the crown. He had been content to fly under the radar, especially amid his two brother’s bluster. But the ability to change his own fate, and the fate of others, was certainly an enticing proposition. Being King could mean changing just about anything he didn't like about Orzammar, at least with the backing of the assembly. There was only one problem. 

"What about Trian? I honestly think he'd rather kill me than see me become King." Varryn whispered back. 

"It's certainly a dangerous game that we'd be playing. But that's why you have me." Gorim whispered before giving Varryn's leg under the table a gentle squeeze.

\---------------------------

Varryn awoke to find himself bandaged up laying next to the campfire. It was pitch black out, with only a smattering of stars hanging above him. He preferred the nighttime on the surface when the sky more closely resembled the stone. The familiarity of it was calming. 

"You're awake." Zevran said as he rubbed Varryn’s arm. "How are you feeling?"

Varryn gave a little jump, turning to see Zevran laying in a bedroll next to his.

"My apologies, did I startle you?" Zevran asked.

Varryn propped himself up on his uninjured arm to look at Zevran. "No need, I just hadn't realized you were there. What happened?"

"You passed out. From the blood loss, I assume. Wynne patched you up though, I'm sure you'll be running headfirst into danger first thing tomorrow." Zevran smiled, tittering to himself. 

"Did you wait with me this whole time?" Varryn asked. 

"But of course, I owe you a life debt after all." Zevran replied. 

"You don't owe me anything Zevran. You spared my life as much as I spared yours. I hope you don't feel… obligated to stay with me." Varryn responded, wincing at the familiarity of the implication.

Zevran chuckled, "On the contrary, you tend to get up to interesting things. You meet interesting people and then you kill them. I'm game to tag along, if you are."

Varryn smiled, "I'd more than like it if you tagged along."

"As long as I can stare at you luridly while I do so," Zevran said narrowing his eyes and inching closer to Varryn.

Varryn's breath caught in his throat as Zevran approached him. Light from the fire danced on the elf's face and chest, which he now noticed was bare. In fact he wasn't sure if Zevran was wearing anything at all underneath the bedroll. His heart began to beat in his chest at the thought of his potential nudity. Varryn swallowed and looked up to meet Zevran's eyes.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" Zevran asked, though he appeared to be joking. 

"No I, well perhaps, but only in the sense that I don't know what to say." Varryn spoke softly, afraid of his own feelings. 

"Would you be offended if I said I fancied you?" Zevran asked, reaching out to brush a dreadlock away from Varryn's face. At that, Varryn’s heart raced so hard it felt as if his heart was slamming into his ribs. Goosebumps remained where Zevran’s hand had brushed against his cheek and the air between them felt thick.

"I was hoping you felt the same way," Varryn whispered, studying Zevran’s eyes for a reaction.

A sly smile spread across Zevran's face. He reached around to pull the back of Varryn's head gently towards his, drawing him into a deep, passionate kiss. Varryn felt his whole body relax, as Zevran parted his lips with his tongue, massaging it along his own. Varryn reached out to stroke the elf's chest, running it down the length of his shoulders down past his belly button.

Zevran pulled away for a moment to open his own bedroll, revealing his naked body. Varryn looked down to see his engorged cock illuminated by the firelight.

"Would you like to join me?" He asked "It will be far warmer for us to share heat."

Varryn looked around. They were out in the open with not even a tent to shield their potential lovemaking. He hoped the others would stay put, but the risk of being caught with Zevran lent its own excitement. Varryn nodded, and Zevran unfurled his bedroll to lay it flat on the ground. Varryn lay down on it and Zevran covered them in the spare bedroll to shield them from the cold. 

Zevran turned to Varryn and began to kiss his way from his cheek down to his neck.

"Tell me Warden," he said between kisses "have you had a man defile you with his tongue before?"

Varryn's heart skipped a beat at the proposition. "No. Gorim and I… were truly together only the one time."

Zevran chuckled mischievously at that. "What a treat you are in for."

Zevran continued to kiss his way down to Varryn's chest, stopping to lick and suck his nipples. Varryn's breath hitched and he felt his member begin to harden. Zevran reached down and began to stroke his cock through his small clothes while circling his tongue around Varryn's nipple. Varryn panted with excitement. 

"Roll onto your stomach." Zevran instructed from beneath the covers. 

Varryn did as he was told and rolled over, carefully folding his arms in front of him to avoid straining his injured shoulder. Underneath the bedroll Zevran slid his small clothes off and lowered himself between Varryn's legs. Varryn was unsure what to expect next when he felt Zevran start to lap at his entrance with his tongue. Varryn gasped. Zevran's tongue circled around his hole before plunging in, sending shivers down Varryn's body. Zevran doggedly lapped at his entrance, repeatedly plowing his tongue in and out.

"Ancestors," Varryn breathed, "that feels so good."

Zevran continued to slowly fuck him with his tongue. He reached his arm underneath Varryn to grab his member, which at that point had become rock hard. He teased the head of Varryn's cock with his thumb, causing Varryn to moan in ecstacy. 

Zevran paused to lift his head. "Would you mind terribly if I went inside you? All this pretense has made me awfully randy."

Though nervous, Varryn nodded. Zevran pulled a small bottle of oil from his pack and slathered his cock in it, making it shine from the light of the fire. He then poured a dollop over Varryn's entrance, gently massaging it inside. Varryn moaned in anticipation, causing Zevran to chuckle. 

"Are you ready?" He asked. 

"Please," Varryn gasped, "fuck me."

"If you insist," Zevran quipped. He placed his cock at Varryn's entrance and slowly pushed himself inside. 

"Relax," Zevran coaxed, placing his hand on the flat of Varryn’s back, "it will make it easier."

Varryn let all of the tension go from his body and Zevran pushed the rest of his member inside. Varryn gasped as Zevran became fully sheathed inside. Zevran began to slowly rock his body back and forth, his engorged cock sliding along the length of Varryn's hole. 

"Paragons!" Varryn whimpered. Zevran's member was far bigger than Gorim's and the feeling of it stretching him open was almost too much to bear.

Zevran paused, "Are you alright?"

"Don't stop!" Varryn pleaded, eliciting a laugh from Zevran. He began again, picking up speed as he thrust in and out of him. Varryn mewled as Zevran moved inside of him, his member continuing to stretch his hole open. As the tip of his cock repeatedly slammed into Varryn's prostate he practically cried out his name:

"Zevrannnn!" 

An orgasm overtook Varryn’s body, causing shivers to burst from his member and stream through to the end of his limbs. He involuntarily clenched his hole around Zevran's rigid cock, squeezing it on all sides. 

"Fuck!" Zevran groaned as his emission erupted from his member and into Varryn. His back arched and Varryn felt hot cum shoot up inside him. Zevran slowly pulled out of him and rolled to the side to lay beside him, panting. Varryn turned onto his side to look at Zevran's face, which had a thin coating of sweat that glimmered next to the fire. He looked beautiful, almost ethereal. 

Zevran scooted closer, wrapping his arms around him and pressing their foreheads close. 

"Was I as wonderful as your wildest dreams?" He teased, his mouth pulling up at the side into a crooked smile.

Varryn let the tension out of his body with a gust of air before laughing, "I would have absconded the throne for that." 

"Truly?" Zevran remarked, "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself as much as I did."

Varryn smiled. For the first time since coming to the surface he felt at peace.


	6. The Way Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gorim and Varryn Aeducan discuss what the future may hold if Varryn were to take the throne. Later, Morrigan finds Varryn and Zevran in a compromising position.

Varryn Aeducan spent the next six months training. Though Gorim was a warrior and could have easily trained him himself, Varryn thought it was better that he train as a rogue. He was quick on his feet, sure, but more importantly he knew that his ability to strike from the shadows could be the difference between the throne and the grave. Gorim had found a Carta member in Dust Town that was willing to train Varryn, and keep his mouth shut, for the right amount of coin. Every moment they could steal away from the palace was spent in the Proving Grounds where they were less likely to arouse suspicion. 

To keep up appearances, Varryn had agreed to be set up with potential matches. Each meeting was more uncomfortable than the last, made even more so by Gorim’s presence. As his second, Gorim acted as chaperone to any and all meetings he had with, what seemed to be, a never ending line of eligible noble daughters. The two had a regular routine, with Varryn making a big show about how annoyed and embarrassed he was to be watched while Gorim acted the school marm, guarding his virtue. It was a small miracle that they had managed to keep the act up for this long. Thankfully, most of the matches seemed more interested in Trian and were happy to be rid of Varryn in the hopes of trading up. While Trian could offer them the potential to be queen, Varryn appeared to have a lack of political ambition and his close relationship with Gorim put off most of his suitors. He might have been embarrassed for himself if it wasn’t the exact reaction he was looking for. 

Leske emerged from the shadows, lunging at Varryn who managed to duck and roll across the floor. As a prince in his own right, Varryn had access to his own training suite within the Proving Grounds that offered ample privacy. Varryn leapt up from the floor and crouched, spinning in a small circle in search of Leske who had somehow faded into the shadows again. The next thing he knew he had the cold steel of Leske’s blade against his neck. 

“Too slow. You would have been dead.” Leske said before letting him go. 

Varryn collapsed onto his hands and knees, panting. They had been training for hours and he was exhausted, yet Leske somehow hadn’t even broken a sweat. Gorim watched from the sidelines, his face concerned.

“What, you need a break?” Leske taunted.

Varryn shook his head, struggling to get back to his feet. “No, no, I can go again,” he insisted through ragged breaths. 

“I think that’s enough for the day.” Gorim interrupted. Leske nodded and strode towards Gorim who handed him his payment. 

Leske left the training suite. Varryn groaned and fell back down to the floor, stretching his limbs out into a starfish and staring up at the stone above them.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” He admitted. 

Gorim walked across the room and sat down on the floor beside Varryn.

“Of course you can.” 

“I feel like I haven’t made any progress at all. I’m still just as squishy as before.” Varryn whined. 

Gorim shook his head. “Self-pity isn't necessary. You will get better because you have to."

Varryn massaged his temples. That's right, he had to. The pressure was immense and, worst of all, he didn't even know what the best outcome would be. Best case scenario, he would have to kill his own brother. He didn't know if he had it in him. 

He continued staring at the stone ceiling above them. They had avoided discussing the potential outcomes in too much detail. If he became King and could change the law… would Gorim marry him? What do you call the husband of a King?

He turned to Gorim, "If I do this, what does that mean for us?" It was a question that had been in his mind since their first conversation at Tapster's Tavern.

"What do you mean?" Gorim asked. 

"If I become King, what does that make you?" 

"I'd be your second, of course," Gorim responded quickly.

"Is that what you want?" Varryn asked.

"It's what I swore to do."

Varryn sighed, irritated. "So what, you feel obligated?"

"I am obligated." Gorin snapped. 

Varryn's heart sank and his head began to spin. Did anything that had happened between them mean anything at all? 

"The afternoon of the provings, did you want to do that?" Varryn hissed.

"Varryn, of course I did!" Gorim retorted, aghast. 

"I apologize, I…" Varryn paused and covered his face. "I guess I don't know what I mean to you. Gorim, I've been in love with you for six years. Do you not realize that?"

He spread his fingers to peer through his hands at Gorim, whose face had turned beet red. 

"You're more important than anyone in the world to me Varryn, surely you know that." Gorim whispered. 

Varryn sat up and shifted to face Gorim. 

"Do you love me?" He asked pointedly.

"I… don't know." Gorim answered, looking away. 

Varryn stood up to leave. 

"Varryn, wait!" Gorim pleaded, grabbing his hand. 

Varryn spun around. "I thought that when you asked me to" he hissed the next part through his teeth "kill my brother, you did it because you wanted to be with me. Not because you didn't want things to change." 

Gorim blinked, but didn't respond. 

"Perhaps I should have known better than to fill in the blanks about what you felt, but I would have been perfectly happy being a Grey Warden.” Varryn turned away from him. “It is truly selfish to ask me to kill my own family for your own personal gain." 

With that, Varryn turned to leave. This time Gorim did not protest. 

\---------------------------

Varryn stirred, slowly opening his eyes against the blasting morning sun above him. Zevran’s arms will still wrapped around him from the night before, the heat of the elf transferring to his back.

"My my, 'tis not often one finds an elf and dwarf in the throes of love."

Varryn turned to see Morrigan standing above them.

"Morrigan! What a lovely morning we are having." Zevran said, raising his arm to shield his eyes from the sun. 

She smirked in response. "You will receive no judgement from I, though you may want to dress yourselves before the others arise." 

"Morrigan, you are more than welcome to join us if you wish. You know how I admire your exquisite beauty." Zevran quipped while giving her a wink.

"Alas, I do not think I could shriek for you quite as much as our dear warden did last night. It seems apparent to me that what you need more than anything else is privacy." Morrigan said, "and with that, I shall take my leave." She walked off into the forest, leaving Varryn and Zevran alone together again.

Varryn groaned with embarrassment, covering his head in the bedroll. 

Zevran laughed, "come, do not hide your beautiful face from me." 

Varryn stayed under the cover. "I didn't realize we were being that loud!"

Zevran joined him under the roll. "I did," he chuckled "but there is no harm. I can think of nothing greater than the whole world hearing our lovemaking." 

Varryn smiled and leaned in to kiss the elf. 

"Morrigan's right though. We should get up before everyone else sees us. Plus I could really use a wash, it feels like I'm covered in oil."

Zevran flung the bedroll off of them and stood proudly in his fully nudity. He stretched out his hand to offer it to Varryn. 

"Come then. There is a lake nearby where we can lather each other's nether regions."

Varryn took his hand and Zevran lifted him to his feet. Varryn quickly grabbed his armour before the two of them ran naked toward the lake.


	7. The First Time and the Last Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gorim apologizes to Varryn before the banquet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW for gay stuff

Gorim and Varryn had barely spoken since the incident at the Proving Grounds, though their secret training had continued in earnest. It was evident that Leske's lessons had finally begun to pay off as Varryn's every movement became swift and deadly. His arms and legs had built considerable muscle and he flowed through battle with a gracefulness untypical in dwarves. His recent victory at the proving had proved his mettle. His father must have taken notice as he had given him the title "Commander of Orzammar". Though it was mostly ceremonial, Varryn relished the victory nonetheless. 

A banquet was planned for that night to celebrate, to be followed by the excavation of the Aeducan Thaig the following morning. Varryn had spent much of his adolescence feeling like an outsider in the palace, this was the first time that the attention of his position had felt revelatory rather than daunting or burdensome. Varryn dressed in his best finery, which had been commissioned by his father in preparation for the event. He looked at himself in the mirror. The tunic fit tightly around his broad shoulders and arms and the trousers were snug around his backside. He wondered if these were intentional features in his father's long quest to find him a wife. He grimaced at the thought of having to make nice with potential matches over dinner.

Varryn heard a knock at the door. 

"You may enter!" Varryn called. 

Gorim entered the room, stopping when he saw Varryn in his tunic. 

"You look… very handsome, my lord." 

Varryn felt a pang of longing in his chest. 

"Please don't do that Gorim."

"Pardon?" Gorim looked surprised.

"Don't say things that make me wish we were more than we are. You've made it clear where you stand." Varryn replied, avoiding Gorim's gaze.

Gorim closed the door behind him and cleared his throat. "Actually, I don't believe I have." 

He strode confidently towards Varryn, stopping in front of him. Varryn continued to avoid his gaze, though he now stood right in front of him.

"I have reacted poorly." Gorim said gently. "You were right, I was selfish. But more than that, I was scared. I'm a Saelac, as a child I swore myself to you, to protect you. Just as my ancestors did before me."

Varryn finally lifted his head to meet Gorim's eyes. Gorim took a deep breath before continuing.

"I have always tried to know my place. At times that has been easy, because my place was at your side. But when you started talk of leaving… it was far from what I was willing to accept for my life. You were brave to consider such an alternative." 

"I don't know about that…" Varryn started. 

"Please, let me finish." Gorim pleaded, softly. "I have thought much of this. About why I could not speak my mind before and I believe it was because I was too afraid to admit what stirred deep in me. If…. When you become King I don't just want to be your second. If you'll have me, I would stand by your side. Ancestors be damned."

Varryn's breath hitched and his eyes stung. A single tear escaped and rolled down his cheek as he fought back more. 

"Truly, Gorim?" He asked.

Gorim nodded. He took a step forward, closing the small distance between them. He reached up and gently brushed the tear away from Varryn's face with his thumb. 

"I don't think I've ever seen you cry. I hope my foolishness hasn't caused you too much anguish." He said. The two of them stood there for a moment, looking at each other. Their faces so close they could feel each other's breath. Gorim had left his hand on Varryn's cheek and only now moved it to cup his chin, leaning in to catch Varryn's lips in his own. Varryn grabbed onto the back of Gorim's head, aggressively pulling his head closer. Though it had been months, their lips did a familiar dance, grasping desperately at one another. Varryn turned his head to nip at Gorim's neck, at the same time running his hand down the dwarf's back to cup his ass. 

Gorim chuckled and gently pulled away. "We should probably stop. The dinner is about to start and I don't want someone to walk in on us again." 

"Gorimmmm…" Varryn let out a low growl, taking Gorim's hand and placing it on his hardened member, which was straining against the new trousers. 

Gorim's breathing became shallow as he stroked Varryn's cock. "Perhaps, if we're quick…" he breathed. 

Varryn frantically pulled his trousers and small clothes off and Gorim worked on removing the lower half of his armour. Varryn grabbed a vial of oil from his bedside table, he had learned his lesson after last time, and walked back over to Gorim whose codpiece had just been removed, his engorged member stretching away from his body. Varryn poured some of the oil into his hands and ran it along the length of Gorim's cock. 

"Paragons…" Gorim moaned. 

"Fuck me Gorim" Varryn said, handing him the vial. He turned around to face the wall, pressing himself against it for balance. He felt Gorim's fingers slide inside him, coated in oil. Varryn moaned against the pressure and began to writhe on Gorim's fingers. He grabbed his hand from behind him and forced his fingers further into his ass. 

"Holy shit." Gorim whispered, continuing to slowly finger Varryn. Once ready, he slid his fingers out and positioned himself underneath Varryn's entrance. His breath quickened and his heart began to beat in his chest. "Have you done this before?" 

"No, have you?" Varryn replied. A mixture of nerves and excitement filled his belly.

"I have not" Gorim said, feeling his cheeks flush. "I'm honoured it will be with you."

"Take me." Varryn begged. 

Gorim licked his lips and steadied himself before slowly pushing inside, Varryn's entrance forming a vice around his member, clenching him from all sides. Varryn moaned in response. Gorim grabbed him by the hips and slowly pulled himself in and out, in and out. He watched as his cock stretched Varryn's entrance open as he pushed deeper inside. 

"Ancestors…" Varryn mewled. 

"Are you okay?" Gorim asked, stopping.

"Don't stop!" Varryn whined.

Gorim chuckled and resumed thrusting slowly into Varryn, his member glistening with oil. He continued pushing himself inside his lover, moving deeper. His heart raced.

"Fuck, Varryn" he choked out between thrusts. 

"Faster" Varryn whispered and reached down to stroke his own cock in rhythm. Gorim's thrust picked up pace, pushing Varryn further against the wall. His member filling Varryn entirely before pulling away. Varryn relished the feeling as Gorim's cock pounded against his prostate, sending waves of pleasure down his body.

"That… feels… so… good!" Varryn groaned between thrusts, continuing to massage his own cock. Between the feeling of his ass getting pounded and his hand rubbing his engorged member he could barely think straight.

"Here, let me." Gorim whispered and reached around to grab Varryn's cock. Varryn let go as Gorim's hand closed around his member, stroking it vigorously while continuing to thrust in and out of his ass. Varryn's head fell back as he leaned into the touch of his lover. As Gorim's steady hand began to match pace with the rhythm of his thrusts Varryn felt a tingling sensation run across his nerves.

"Paragons, I'm…" Varryn gasped as an orgasm overcame him, his cock spilling over onto Gorim's hand. His mind went blank as he gave himself over to his body. 

"Varrynnnn" Gorim groaned as Varryn's entrance closed itself around his cock. The pressure was immense, causing him to erupt inside of him. Varryn moaned.

Gorim panted heavily, leaning against Varryn's back for a moment before slowly pulling out. Varryn turned around and took Gorim's face in his hands, kissing him passionately. He leaned his forehead against Gorim. 

"Now it's your turn," he said in between attempts to catch his breath "what did you think?"

Gorim took a moment to catch his breath before responding, "I think that we should have done that long ago." 

Varryn chuckled. "Your room is next door, we can do it whenever we want."

Gorim smiled "Perhaps I'll sleep in here once we return. But in the meantime, we really must be going."


End file.
